


Lost and Found

by Winter_S_Jameson



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas traditions, Drama, Found Family Feels, Gen, Happy enough ending, Lost Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_S_Jameson/pseuds/Winter_S_Jameson
Summary: With a terrible snow storm preventing the rest of the Ghostbusters and Janine from returning to the firehall on Christmas Eve and the phone out, Peter is trying to moodily deal with spending yet another Christmas alone. But when Slimer rushes in and tells him there's a little girl outside lost in the blizzard, Peter finds the only thing he can do is try to help her get home. Will he succeed? And even if he does, will he be able to make it back to Ghostbuster Central before succumbing to the soul-numbing weather?
Relationships: Peter Venkman & Egon Spengler & Ray Stantz & Winston Zeddemore & Janine Melnitz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> _Original ANs: I got the idea for this one from a song called "Old City Bar" from the Trans-Siberian Orchestra CD "Christmas Eve and Other Stories". It doesn’t exactly follow the plot of the song, but the basic concept is there. You know, it’s about time I finish a holiday fic on time. Consider this my gift to the RGBSmarm list – you’ve made my year a lot brighter._
> 
> _New ANs: Well, it's about time I posted a Christmas fic at Christmas. And when I found this sweet little piece sitting on my hard drive, never having been posted here, I knew it had to be done, especially considering it's 2020 and we've been living through the weirdest of alternate realities... Anyway, my Christmas offering. And the little ornament tradition I talk about in this story is my family's (my extended family on my dad's side) in real life, one we weren't able to partake in this year thanks to COVID and the fact that we just lost my dad's mother earlier this month. This one's for you, Grandma._

If it had been a gentle snowfall, one made up of huge, fluffy flakes floating down like feathers after a particularly good pillow fight, the brown-haired man standing at the second-floor window of the old firehouse might have been able to see the beauty in it. But as it was the snow came down violently, riding the wicked wind and obscuring the view not three feet from the panes of glass that separated him from the elements. He could barely tell that the streetlight at the corner was still lit. He sighed.

The man just caught the reflection, as he turned away from the depressing scene outside, of a loneliness in his emerald green eyes that he thought he’d managed to keep repressed, though from who he couldn’t have said. He was all alone in the three-story building, everyone else having been called away for family activities. They were supposed to be returning that night, Christmas Eve night, for their own festivities to begin, all five of them able to stick around for both Christmas Eve and the actual day itself.

It was an odd occurrence at the firehall. Normally, one of the five would have to be gone one day or the other to be with his - or her in Janine’s case - other family members on the special occasion. But this year the twenty-third worked out better for all involved. The Spengler clan Christmas in Ohio, the big get-together that it was, had its date moved back so it fell on the more convenient Saturday. Couldn’t have all those scientists and scholars missing out on a legitimate day of work, now could we? Egon had frowned at him for that remark, telling him that with all the various locations across the country his different family members had to come in from, making sure that no one had to miss any work - on _Tuesday_ , thank you very much - was of a benefit for everyone. Besides, this meant that he could spend the actual holiday with the family he was closest to, with the exception of his mother, who intended to leave for her planned Mediterranean cruise right after the happy event.

"Gosh, Peter, Egon’s right," Ray Stantz had declared at that little fact. "And since Aunt Lois and I are going up to see Cousin Sam and her new husband that same day, I’ll be here, too."

"What about your traditional Christmas Eve at Aunt Lois’ house?" Peter had asked.

The husky redhead had grinned. "She’s going with Sam to Michael’s parents’ place. I was invited, too, but I wanted to come home. I don’t really know Michael that well, and I know what I’ll have waiting for me here."

Peter smiled in remembrance of how that particular statement had made him feel. It had been accompanied by one of Ray’s generous bear hugs. As he flopped down on the couch of the living area of the second floor and reached for the remote, he shook his head. Now that he had been reconciled to the holiday thanks to the Spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future - who would have thought Dickens was right? - he could share in the same excitement Ray and to a lesser degree the others reveled in about this time. If only the weather would cooperate...

That thought drove the smile right off Peter’s features. Not even Winston or Janine could be there thanks to this blizzard, even though their families’ get-togethers were normally in town. Winston had regretfully informed him that his brother Charles was hosting the Zeddemore Family Christmas at his place in Albany this year, and his mother was more than happy to give up cooking duties to Winston’s sister-in-law Sarah. Well, she had been until she found out that the young woman was three months pregnant, and that was why they wanted it up there. Due to some long-standing medical conditions, Sarah was dealing with a high-risk pregnancy, and Charles had thought it best not risk such a long trip. But that meant it had to be on Saturday, so that Winston’s other brother Frank and his wife and kids could drive back in time to be with Melody’s family on Monday.

Janine had told the guys that her cousin Connie had insisted on having the Melnitz family get-together at her place in Portland, Maine. She and her husband had just bought a huge ten-bedroom mansion and of course wanted to show it off. In fact, it was supposed to be a huge, all-weekend thing, with entertainment and catering and special decorations brought in from only the finest of places. "She’s always rubbing her money in the cousins’ faces," the redheaded secretary had spat out as she explained why she was only willing to spend Saturday there. "Especially mine. We were born within fifteen minutes of each other at the same hospital, and have been rivals ever since. I’ve been told the maternity ward nurses had a party when our parents got us out of there. We tended to have screaming matches to see who could be the loudest."

"I bet you won," Peter responded with a huge grin.

"Would you like me to demonstrate?" Janine had returned sweetly, batting her sapphire blue eyes innocently.

"Uh, no, that’s okay," Winston had said, fighting a smile at the look of horror on Peter’s face. "We’d like to avoid snowdrifts in the firehouse this winter. That’s why we got new windows."

"Well, that and Ray and Egon blew most of them out with their latest, greatest explosion," Peter added, recovering his equilibrium. The two scientists didn’t reply, knowing full well that, for once, the psychologist wasn’t exaggerating.

A sharp howl of wind and the resulting rattle of the new windows brought Peter back to the present. He quickly turned on the TV and called up the Weather Channel. "This does not look good," he muttered to himself. He couldn’t see almost the entire state of New York under the bright white representation of the storm front that covered it on the weather map currently being discussed. Warnings were being issued non-stop, and it didn’t look like there was any chance of things calming down until late Monday night at the earliest. There was no way any of his friends, who had all been expected at various times that evening, would be able to get back in time for Christmas. Even Ohio and Maine were being hit with their very own versions of the white torrent that was going on outside the thick brick walls.

A sudden suspicion had Peter up and to the phone in the blink of an eye. Raising the receiver to his ear, his bad feelings were confirmed. No dial tone. The storm had knocked the phone lines out, and even if his friends had tried to call to let him know what was going on with them they couldn’t have gotten through. "Wonderful," he grumbled with a frown. "Just friggin’ wonderful. Exactly how I wanted to spend my Christmas - alone and cut off from the rest of the world." Well, at least the television still worked. That was something.

The brown-haired man tensed as he waited for the inevitable to happen at that thought. Green eyes shifted over to the TV with resigned expectation. The scene on the screen merely shifted to the sun-bathed beaches of California earlier that day, the voice of the weatherman of the hour announcing the same being expected for the next day for at least that part of the country.

Peter turned to completely face the set and scowled blackly. "Wouldn’t it just figure that those sun-baked twits would get good weather? What did they do to deserve it? I ask you!"

He was about to replant himself on the sofa and change the channel to something less depressing when the resident little green ghost came zooming up the stairs from the ground floor babbling incoherently. Slimer nearly crashed into Peter’s chest, somehow managing to catch himself before incurring the wrath of Venkman and waved his arms frantically as he tried to tell the man something he obviously considered quite important. 

"Hold it, Spud!" Peter interrupted with irritation. "Try talking at a normal speed and I might get it."

Slimer did as requested and started over again. "Little girl outside lost! Help her, Peter!"

This totally unexpected turn of events made Peter draw back in shock. "Little girl? Are you sure, Slimer? Who would be outside in such crappy weather?"

"Uh, huh, Slimer sure. Little girl needs your help. Help her, Peter!"

The psychologist narrowed his eyes suspiciously then headed for the stairs that led to the ground floor. "If this is some sort of trick..." he growled menacingly.

"No trick, Peter. Promise."

The man sighed, shaking his head as he reached the concrete floor of the garage. "What kind of parents would let their kid out on a night like this?" he grumbled on his way to the front door. "And on Christmas Eve, no less!" He flung open the door and squinted to see past the virtual wall of white the storm created.

The frigid blast of wind that rushed by had nothing to do with the lack of breath Peter found himself dealing with at the sight before him. Just as Slimer had said, a small girl, eight years old at most, bundled up against the elements, stood just to the right of the now-open door, looking around as though she couldn’t quite place where she was or where to go from there. "My god..." Peter whispered before gathering his wits and calling out, "Hey, little girl! What are you doing out here in this weather? Why don’t you come inside where it’s warm and maybe I can get you home? Your parents must be worried sick!"

The tiny figure spun to face the source of the sudden sound and Peter revised his guess at her age. She couldn’t have been any older than six. Huge eyes blinked at him innocently. "I have to find my way home," she declared determinedly. She clutched a small package in her mittened hands.

"Well, sure," Peter replied. "Just let me grab my coat and keys and I’ll drive you there. Just think, you’ll be escorted home in style by the famous Doctor Peter Venkman. That’s sure to win you some major points with your family." He grinned widely.

"No!" she cried desperately. "I... I need to walk home. I... can’t let you drive me!" With that the child turned and blindly ran away, her small form quickly swallowed by the screen of white that the blizzard created.

"No, wait!" Peter yelled after her. "You can’t..." He let out an explosive breath and rushed back to his locker and the winter gear within. "Well, Venkman, obviously she can. Now do something about it before she completely loses herself in this storm," he muttered to himself as he yanked on his boots and pulled on the rest of his layers as fast as he could. He grimaced as he pulled on the knit hat, the expression brief as he dismissed the normal concern for his hair in the more important one of a child out alone in this weather.

When he was as bundled up as he was going to get, he ran outside in the direction he had last seen the girl go, barely pausing to close the door behind him. Peter realized this wasn’t the best move he could have made, but his heart didn’t see any other choice, no matter that his head was screaming there was no way he was going to find her in the swirling mass of wind and snow. A few moments later he was glad to find his head had been wrong. The psychologist practically tripped over a huddled form in the middle of the sidewalk across the street from the firehouse - at least he thought that was where they were - and from all accounts that form was crying, if the shaking shoulders were any indication. He quickly knelt down and put an arm around her, stilling the quivering body. "You know, you never gave me a chance to think up any other options, sweetheart. If you’re that afraid of the car, maybe we can walk home. There’s no way you could be that far, not in this weather, and I’m as warm as I’m going to be. Let’s head out, and you can tell me why you’re out in this mess instead of at home in front a glittering tree with your family. That sound alright?"

The tiny face looked up at the man that held her, the tears already stopped, and a small, shy smile began to light up her features. "You will? You’ll really help me get home?" she asked in a quiet voice, an instant trust in what Peter could now see were huge midnight blue eyes.

"Of course, honey. Which way are we headed?" He helped her to her feet as he gave her a soft, reassuring smile of his own.

The girl never hesitated as she pointed north. "That way. Then I can go home."

"Then that’s the way we go." Peter began to lead the way the child had directed, taking hold of the hand that wasn’t clutching the small bag he had seen earlier. "Now we have a chance to get to know each other a little. You already know I’m Peter. What’s your name?"

"Neva," was the shy response.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Neva. Do your parents know you’re out tonight?"

She sighed. "I bet they do by now."

The regret Peter could hear in the youngster’s voice tore at him. "They didn’t know you left, huh?"

The little head shook from side to side. "No. But I had to get my ornament for the tree. I didn’t have my ornament."

"Your ornament? What’s so important about the ornament?"

"It’s my special angel, with a bell and my name on it and everything. I turned five, and my mommy and daddy said that when I turned five I got my golden angel. But when they gave me my ornament to put on the tree a couple days before Christmas Eve, it was the same teddy bear it had been the year before. But I turned five!" The most adorable pout overtook her features, and Peter found it hard not to smile at the sight.

"So you went out to get it yourself, huh? That’s pretty brave in weather like this. But you were lucky I noticed you out here."

The pout was quickly forgotten in the smile that lit up the tiny face. "Oh, no. Not luck. I knew someone would find me soon and try to help. And I’m glad it was you, Peter. It’s nice of you to be so worried for me."

Now if that wasn’t confusing, he didn’t know what was. Before Peter could ask her to clarify however, a strong gust of wind blew right into his face, completely disorientating him. As he blinked his eyes clear, all he could see around him was white. The lack of traffic wasn’t entirely surprising, but the lack of those few brave souls walking was. He and Neva hadn’t encountered anyone in the time they’d been traveling. "Um, where exactly are we headed, anyway? We should be almost there, right?"

"That way." She pointed again. "We should be there just in time."

"That’s good," Peter replied with a grin. "I’d hate to be late."

The girl looked up at him with a serious look that seemed out of place on someone so young. "I know," she agreed solemnly.

They continued on for a while longer, Peter getting more and more cold as the time he couldn’t seem to keep track of passed, but unwilling to stop. Something inside him insisted only he could help Neva now, and that same something wouldn’t be satisfied until he did. He gave the little hand he held a squeeze, and the midnight blue eyes turned up to him with a sparkle of gratitude, as though she realized the inner commitment he had just made.

"So who are you going to spend your Christmas with, Peter?" Neva asked. "I bet it’s someone special, as special as you are."

The corners of his mouth turned up in a wistful smile filled with regret. "I was supposed to spend the day with my friends, my family. But with this storm they’re not going to be able to make it. The phone’s out, too, so I can’t even call them." Peter closed his eyes briefly and got himself under control. There was no need to depress the poor child. "But it’ll be okay. I’m sure we’ll make up for it once they get home."

"That’s what home is for you? Being with them?" Neva asked curiously, her head tilting to the side as she looked up at the man who held her hand.

"Yeah, I guess it is." The smile began to lose its regretful overtones.

"Will you tell me about them? They must be good people just like you if they mean so much." The little voice was filled with childish enthusiasm.

"Well, since you asked..." Peter’s voice trailed off as images of his friends filled his mind’s eye, and his wistful smile melted into a contented grin. "Let’s see, why don’t we start with Ray, since you remind me of him." She giggled at that. "Doctor Raymond Stantz, if I wanted to be formal. But that’s not my style. He’s off with his aunt Lois visiting his cousin Sam upstate. That’s short for Samantha, actually. I’ve known Ray since my junior year of college. He’s a little shorter than me, with short red hair and a grin that can make you feel better even when you don’t want to. He’s always looking at the bright side, or at least trying to. A great big kid." He looked down at the girl he walked with. "But don’t let that fool you. He’s so much more than that. He’s got two doctorates, in engineering and parapsychology; he’s a genius. He’s got a natural gift for anything mechanical that’s just mind boggling. And he’s got a knowledge of the occult that’s only eclipsed by his interest in it. I can only guess what kind of dark secrets that boy has hidden beneath that sunny disposition. There’s some pretty nasty stuff out there, stuff that would turn even my stomach. I don’t know how he does it. I guess I can only be glad he does."

"You think a lot of him," Neva said quietly, her voice nearly swept away by the still gusting gale that surrounded them.

Peter nodded. "He’s like my kid brother. Sometimes I know I get overprotective with him, but I could never let him lose that innate goodness. I’d lose part of myself."

"It’s good to know you love him so much. What about the others?"

The grin returned. "Well, there’s our secretary, Janine Melnitz. She’s in Maine at her cousin’s place. I hired her because I was desperate. The other applicants we’d had pretty much turned tail and ran when they found out exactly what our business was all about. But Janine..." He gave a brief laugh. "She just looked at me and said, ‘If this is some sort of test to see if I can put up with you, Doctor Venkman, I’ll have you know that I deal with worse in the subways. And I don’t scare easily. So if this is real, I’m your gal. If it’s not, well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be happy.’ And she hadn’t even met Egon yet." He shook his head. "The lady’s got a temper to match her red hair, and her phone etiquette could still use some work, even after all this time, but she knows how to run the shop. Not that I’d tell her so to her face, but we’d probably be lost without her."

"Why wouldn’t you say so?" the little girl asked, confused.

The man’s grin turned wicked. "It’d be against the rules. You see, Janine and I have a little unspoken understanding. We tease each other to no end, bicker like there’s no tomorrow. We’re actually a lot alike in personality, and this is our way to be able to release the tension that can cause. If we didn’t play like that, we might do it for real. And neither one of us really wants that."

"So she does mean a lot to you."

"Of course." He paused, thinking. "She’s got a thick Brooklyn accent that tends to cover a quick mind that retains a lot of information. I’ve watched some of our clients underestimate her, and boy, is that not something you want to do. Remember the temper. She’s beyond loyal, always there for us when we need her whether I can pay her for it or not. And she’s a romantic underneath that tough exterior, but you really only get to see that when she lets you get close. Otherwise it’s just the typical shallow girl thing that most people would expect from someone like her: an unmarried woman from a lower middle-class background working as a secretary for four men with an odd business."

"But like Ray, she’s more than that." Neva looked proud of herself for putting that together.

"You betcha," Peter confirmed. "You’re one smart lady yourself. Janine and I have actually had quite a few talks over the years we’ve been in business. It’s easy considering my office is right behind hers. She’s another one that’s like a younger sibling. My lil’ sis, that’s Janine." He paused again. "But don’t tell her I said that." He gave the girl at his side a wink.

She giggled. "Okay, Peter. I won’t. Who’s next?"

"Winston Zeddemore, lost in the wilds of his brother’s house in Albany. He was the last one to join the team, but he’s not any less welcome for all that. He’s like the last puzzle piece we needed to make a complete picture. He doesn’t have a doctorate, although he’s working on it in his spare time, but he’s just as smart as the rest of us. And if you’ve got a mystery that needs solving, Winston’s your man. That man can catch the tiniest detail and put together its significance faster than anyone else I know - and that’s saying something. He and Ray, working together, keep our beloved car Ecto-1 up and running better than cars just coming off the line - as well as beat the pants off any contestant on any game show. He’s the guy that taught us tactics and strategy, at least putting them in practice. It’s real easy to sit around and discuss what you should and shouldn’t do in a hypothetical situation. It’s another thing all together to actually do it when that situation becomes real. He made sure we kept our heads and stuck to the program. We’d have been lost without him."

"I guess you have a lot to thank him for then, huh?"

"Don’t I know it. And that’s not all. He’s our anchor, _my_ anchor, in all this craziness. We catch ghosts for a living, wicked things that terrorize people and demons that want to take over the world, amongst other things. I’m talking creatures that would give any normal human being nightmares for the rest of their life if they just had a glimpse. Winston keeps us all grounded in reality, reminding us why we’re doing it. Otherwise the rest of us would just be lost in the clouds of scientific discovery." He grinned widely. "Even me, as much as I like to hide it. But his calm acceptance of these things’ reality and the need to get rid of them to keep everyone safe, no matter what kind of readings or motivations we may be picking up on, wakes the rest of us up and keeps us focused on the task at hand. Even makes it easier for me to help the less nasty ones disperse peacefully. As for me, on a personal level, I may have more experience in the real world than either of our two scientists, but I can sometimes get lost in myself and what’s going on inside. That’s when some good old-fashioned, down-to-earth advice is just what I need to put it in perspective. Winston provides that. He’s always there for me. I just hope he can say the same thing about me."

"I’m sure he can," Neva reassured him with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "You couldn’t care this much and not be there. Is there anyone else?"

Peter gave her a smile that came from the depths of his soul. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. Doctor Egon Spengler, currently dealing with the rest of the clan in Cleveland, Ohio. Tall and lanky, with blond hair that he wears in the strangest style and red-rimmed glasses that he can’t keep in place to save his life. Three doctorates, in physics, parapsychology, and ancient languages. His specialty is Sumerian. He collects spores, mold, and fungus, much to my disgust. I constantly have to drag him out of the lab and remind him there’s a real world out there. And the explosions..." He shuddered as he remembered the one that had knocked out all their windows at the firehouse. "To look at him you’d think you were dealing with someone wholly wrapped up in his work, his science, ignorant of anything without a theorem, diagram, or equation attached to it. Someone who’s as dull as those cheap knives in the Ginzu knife infomercial after they try to do what the Ginzu can do.

"But when you look a little deeper you see a man with an incredibly dry sense of humor and an amazingly deadpan style of delivery. A man with a fierce sense of justice and duty. A man that will do what’s right no matter what the consequences are. A man who, when he opens his eyes and looks, can be the most observant and caring friend you could ever imagine. He’s the first real friend I ever had, and the first person aside from my mom that I let myself trust, that I let see the real me. He helped build the foundation of the man I am today, and there is absolutely nothing I could ever do in a million years to repay him for that. Without him, I wouldn’t have Ray, Winston, or Janine in my life, not like they are now. And I wouldn’t really be worth much of anything. Egon is my best friend."

Midnight blue eyes filled with a depth and maturity beyond the girl’s years captured his emerald green gaze. "You seem to have built yourself a wonderful family, Peter. I’m so happy for you."

Peter blinked, thoroughly confused, not just at the look and statement, but at the entirety of the conversation they had just had. The girl was five years old, for Pete’s sake. How could she be expected to understand the complexities of his relationships with his friends? Heck, there were times when even _he_ didn’t understand them. But just as he was about to ask about this strange turn of events, another wall of wind and snow crashed into him, chilling him completely and driving every thought but the instinctual need to stay upright out of his head.

When it was over, he used his free hand to clear his eyes of the stinging little ice crystals as he caught his breath. Finally he looked down at the small girl whose hand he still held and saw nothing but a tiny child’s concern gazing back at him. He took a deep breath and released it, deciding that he must have imagined the other look. Neva _was_ five, after all. "That was a doozy, wasn’t it?" he commented, turning his head to look at the barely visible street around them and so missing the wave of relief that washed over the girl.

"It nearly blew me over," she agreed with a shiver.

He felt the quiver through their joined hands, and suddenly Peter realized just how cold it had gotten since they started their walk. He couldn’t be sure how long they had been traveling, but he knew the temperature had dropped dangerously. His body was shivering constantly, and he took a brief moment to adjust his scarf so it covered his mouth and nose. But at no time did he consider stopping. It couldn’t be much further, and if he was this cold, it had to be so much worse for Neva. "So we’re almost there, right? It’s too cold for either of us to be out much longer," Peter said, his voice muffled.

"It shouldn’t be too much longer," Neva assured him.

After another lengthy block of silence, with only the sound of the wind blowing around and through the surrounding buildings filling the gap, Peter realized his attention was wandering. His muscles were painfully cold, although the pain was losing its edge. This was a bad thing. He could only hope they’d arrive soon so he could warm up at the girl’s house before attempting the trek back.

To keep himself lucid, he decided to find out more about his companion. "So what about you? Who’s at home waiting for you? They must be pretty special if you share such an important tradition that you’re willing to come out in weather like this to make sure it’s done right."

The little girl’s face began to glow at the question. "They are. My mom’s beautiful, even prettier than the angel on top of the tree. And she’s so nice. She likes to make me cookies and candy and other things that I like. My daddy’s quiet, but he likes to smile. His hugs make me feel like nothing can hurt me. I have an older sister named Madison, and she can be kinda mean, but she’s fun most of the time. She got a pretty golden star for her special ornament. And then there’s the baby, Oliver. He’s so cute! Just a little baby, but he smiles like Daddy. I can see them all."

"They sound really great," Peter said with a gentle smile. "So tell me about this tradition of yours. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of one like it before."

The midnight blue eyes sparkled. "My grandma and grandpa started it a long time ago when my daddy and my aunts and uncles were babies. On Christmas Eve, the family would all gather around the tree after supper to put the finishing touches on it. They’d put the string of popcorn on, and light the star, and then Grandpa would give everyone their special ornaments, ones with their names on them, and they’d go up one at a time and put the ornament on the tree while they made a Christmas wish. And you couldn’t wish for toys or things like that. You had to wish for something else, something good or that would help other people. Daddy said that was to remind everyone to think of other people at such a special time of the year. Daddy’s really smart about things like that, don’t you think?"

Green eyes twinkled as they took in the eager, small form at his side. "You bet he is."

Neva grinned. "And then, when Grandpa died, they started to hang his ornament on the Christmas tree that was set up in the park near my house. Daddy said it was so he could be with all the people he tried to think of at Christmas. That trip was fun, too. It was sad to not have Grandpa around anymore, but watching the snow fall in the park while we hung his ornament made everything right. Grandpa loved it when it snowed."

"That sounds like a great tradition. Wish I would have had one like it while I was growing up." Although he wondered if he really would have had the heart to appreciate it.

"You can have it now," Neva offered. "I don’t think Daddy would mind if I let you do it, too. Would you like to?"

Peter couldn’t help but smile, the old, bitter memories flittering away. "I’ll see what the others say. We just might be able to do that."

"And I know what ornament I’d give you, Peter," the girl said solemnly. "I’d give you an angel, just like mine. Because you were willing to help me, even in this storm."

The statement left Peter speechless. He stared down at the child, his eyes slightly moist. Neva just smiled and tugged on his hand, pulling him along.

And so silence reigned again for an even longer time, Peter at first lost in the warm feeling Neva’s heartfelt declaration had caused then lost in the frozen world of the unrelenting storm that completely surrounded him. Only the grip he somehow managed to maintain on the little girl’s hand kept him connected to reality, and he knew that if he had been out by himself he would have had no hope of finding anything, much less shelter. All he could see was white, and he wanted to ask how much further they had to go, but all his strength and force of effort was devoted to making himself move forward.

Peter was completely numb. The only reason he knew all his limbs were still there was because he caught sight of them every now and again as he trudged on through the blizzard. His thoughts were as fuzzy as his nerve endings, the only clear one being that he had to get Neva home. He couldn’t let her be alone in this. He couldn’t.

Finally, a tiny twinkle of light winked a little ways ahead of them, the distance undefinable due to the still raging storm that swirled around them. Somehow Peter knew that was their destination, just as he was sure that there was no way he’d be able to make it home. No thought of stopping at Neva’s parents’ house crossed his mind any longer. He could only think of turning right around and heading back for the firehouse, and he’d never make it. But he _could_ be sure Neva made it home.

The thought of her made the psychologist realize that there was a bit of a dead weight on his right arm. He looked down to see the little girl he had been guiding along kneeling on the sidewalk, a tired expression on her face. "Neva?" he asked, worried. "Are you okay? We only have a little bit further to go. You can make it."

She shook her head. "No, I’m so tired. I’m so cold. Don’t wanna go any more."

"But you have to," Peter began, then his expression became set. Had any of the other Ghostbusters been around to see it, they would have recognized the Venkman stubborn streak a mile off. "We’re going to keep going, even if I have to carry you."

That’s just what he did. He gathered the snow-covered child into his numb and shaking arms and somehow made the two of them continue on toward the light. What little body heat Peter had left seemed to flee with each step he took, but there was no stopping Doctor Venkman now. As soon as they had gone about five feet forward, Neva raised her head from where it had been resting on the man’s shoulder. She blinked and looked around. "You can put me down now, Peter. I won’t stop again."

"No," was the short response. "I’ll get you home. We’re almost there. I won’t let you down. I can’t."

The midnight blue eyes widened and tears filled them. "I don’t want to hurt you," she murmured.

Peter merely shook his head. "It would hurt me more now if I didn’t get you home. This has to mean something."

A few minutes later Neva’s face lit up like the sun. "We’re here! We made it!" She pointed to the now bright light ahead of them.

Peter had been so focused on moving forward he had never seen their approaching destination. He blinked his unfocused green eyes as he took in the scene before him. It certainly wasn’t what he had been expecting. Instead of a small, cozy house, there was a large Christmas tree in the middle of a park, lights lit even in the storm, reflecting on the snow on the ground and in the air. It gave everything an unreal mystical air. "A tree? A park? Are you sure?" the brown-haired man managed to gasp out.

"I need to hang my ornament. Then I can go home," Neva said positively. "Will you help me one more time? I want to put this as high as I can."

The tiny smile made Peter override the shaking limbs that were still barely holding her. "You betcha, Angel. Let’s put that puppy close to the top." He smiled in return, shifting his grip while her tiny mittened hands reached into the bag she had carried all this way and pulled out a small brass angel holding a bell with the name ‘Neva’ engraved on it. He somehow got her standing on his shoulders, and the girl went on her tiptoes to place the hook as high as she could.

The two of them admired their handiwork once Peter was forced to put her back on the ground. The light of the star on top of the tree glittered off the bell, giving the ornament a peculiar glow. "It looks pretty good up there," the man commented, giving Neva’s hand a squeeze. "We did good."

"Yeah, we did," the little girl said wistfully. The star’s light seemed to grow brighter. "And now I can go home. Thank you so much, Peter. I’ll never forget you. Never."

Peter blinked, thoroughly confused. "What?"

"I’m going home. And I couldn’t have done it without you. I want you to get home, too, Peter. You have such a warm home waiting for you. Will you go?"

He blinked some more. "I don’t understand." The cold that had sapped away his strength had made his head fuzzy and his thoughts as sluggish as molasses. "I’ll go home as soon as you do, Angel."

That was all she needed to hear. Neva rushed up to Peter and threw her arms around his legs as he patted her fondly on the head. He finally took note of the embroidered snowflakes on the knitted material that matched her eyes. She grinned as she saw what had caught his attention. "Here," she said, pulling off the cap and letting a mass of white blonde hair tumble down her back. "Keep this to remember me by."

Peter grabbed the hat, shock allowing him to do nothing else. "But won’t you be cold?"

"Where I’m going I won’t need it. Home is always warm. Now you can go home, too. Good bye, Peter. And thank you."

The light from the star grew blinding as Neva seemed to turn and walk directly into it, and when it faded the girl was gone. Peter, still groggy from the long-term exposure to the cold, merely stumbled back, completely confused and almost incoherent. His back connected with a rough brick wall, and he slid to the ground at the contact, his strength gone now that he had achieved his goal. At least she had gone home. If only he could, too. But there was no way he could travel that far, not in this weather.

It was that he regretted, not being able to see his friends one last time before the cold carried him away. He closed his eyes at the thought, turning instinctually away from a light that came from above him to his left. He didn’t want to watch the snow any more. He called up images of his friends in his mind, and carried that warmth with him into unconsciousness.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

"Are you sure about this, Slimer?"

The familiar voice just caught Peter’s drifting awareness, and a part of him keyed into the conversation bemusedly. At least he was moving on in the right company, even if it was only through memories.

"Yeah, yeah," the little ghost said eagerly. "Check one more time."

"But why would he be out in this weather? It’s way too cold."

‘Don’t I know it, Tex,’ Peter’s thought responded to Ray Stantz’s bewildered tone.

"Hadda help. Gotta look!"

"Okay, okay, I’m looking." A brief pause. "Oh my gosh! Peter!"

What in the world? How was it Peter was feeling warm hands on his shoulders? Wasn’t he dead? What was happening?

"Egon! Winston! Janine! I found him! He’s outside!"

‘And he’s deaf,’ Peter thought ruefully, still unable to open his eyes. Oddly enough he could feel his body, and how Ray had taken it into his arms and held on tight. Wasn’t he supposed to be too cold to sense that?

"Oh, Peter, hang on. We’ll get you warmed up in no time, and you can tell us what happened. Everything will be all right."

"Raymond, is he...?" Egon’s deep bass was breathless and filled with fear. Peter could imagine the concern in his gaze, although he still couldn’t understand why he was there.

"He’s breathing. He’s just really cold. I think hypothermia is about to set in. Help me get him inside."

"I’ll do that, Ray." Winston was there, too, obviously, and just as worried as the other two.

Wait a minute. Just about to set in? He should be well past the setting in stage. What was going on?

Peter felt himself lifted from the ground, his arms over the shoulders of the men on either side of him. They entered someplace warm - the firehouse was his guess - and the trek continued on upstairs, followed by a sharp gasp.

"Oh, god, what happened to him? Where’d you find him?" Janine asked, a rare tremble in the accented voice.

"He was just outside the door, sitting against the building," Ray answered. "And I have no idea what happened to him."

"But that is something we will discover, have no doubt of that." Egon sounded quite firm. Peter knew that he’d end up spilling everything, even if he’d been inclined not to. If only he could open his eyes...

"What’s that in his hand?" the secretary asked. "It looks like a kid’s winter hat."

Is that what he was gripping? At least that part had been real. ‘Hey, wait a minute,’ he thought suddenly. ‘What are these guys doing here? Is it Tuesday already? Did the storm last this long?’ There was only one way to find out...

The guys and Janine had him out of his winter gear, changed, and under the covers of his bed (if his senses were right) before Peter found the strength to even try to open his eyes, having dozed off sometime during the transfer. The lids briefly fluttered and opened a crack, revealing the dimly lit bunkroom and four worried forms gathered around his bed (‘Ah, I was right.’), talking quietly so as not to disturb him.

"Hasn’t Slimer told you anything?" Winston asked.

Ray sighed. "He just keeps saying that Peter had to help."

"That’s what he’s been saying since we found out Peter was missing," Janine complained.

"True. So it appears we shall have to wait for Peter to enlighten us as to the reasoning behind his excursion into this storm." Now that he was looking through his eyelashes, Peter could see the physicist had tucked away his emotions to deal with later and had allowed his confused curiosity to come to the fore.

What Peter couldn’t understand was what they were doing there. "Why are you guys here?" he managed to rasp out, his throat dry and sore, a seeming aftereffect of being out in the cold dry air so long.

"Peter! You’re awake!" Ray exclaimed, sitting gently on the bed and looking into the eyes that opened another fraction with the statement.

"You really had us worried, Pete," Winston said with a wide smile. "We got home and no one was here to greet us, on top of the door being unlocked and the TV still on. We couldn’t figure out what happened."

"I had to help Neva get home. Did... did I miss Christmas?" The whole situation had him thoroughly confused.

Egon handed him a glass of water. "No, it’s still Christmas Eve," the blond man responded as Peter took a few small sips to wet his throat. "Through an odd coincidence the weather broke just long enough for us to get home tonight. But we’ve been worried about you, Peter."

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I guess I didn’t think I’d be gone that long. Didn’t Slimer tell you about Neva?"

"He kept repeating you had to help, but he didn’t say who," Ray explained. "He didn’t really seem to be all that worried, actually, now that I think of it." A thoughtful expression took over his features.

"So is that her cap?" Janine asked, gesturing to the midnight blue hat on his bedside table.

"Yeah, it is," Peter said softly. "She gave it to me before she went home. Said it was to remember her by. Like I’d forget her."

"She was a cute little girl, huh?" Winston smiled at the rarely seen sentimental streak his friend had in abundance.

The psychologist smiled. "Oh, yeah. With the prettiest midnight blue eyes. She was five and really looking forward to Christmas with her family. I’m glad I could help her. Even if..." His voice trailed off as he remembered his resignation to his fate, to the knowledge that he couldn’t make it home. But he was here, in the firehouse, and his friends had made it as well.

"Even if?" the black man asked.

"I... I’m not sure exactly what happened. It’s really confusing." A brief shiver shook his frame. "Could... could we go downstairs and talk about this? I just... want to see the tree."

The other four shared a bewildered look. "Of course, Peter. Wherever you’re the most comfortable," Egon agreed, grabbing the comforter from the brown-haired man’s bed and wrapping it around his friend’s shoulders as he sat up.

Once they were gathered in the rec room it grew quiet, as everyone waited for Peter to speak. For a while he merely stared at the twinkling lights, his eyes lost to the world. Finally he returned to Earth and gave the people around him a warm smile, one of the few times he completely let down his guard and revealed his true inner feelings. "I’m glad you guys are home. I really wasn’t looking forward to spending tonight and tomorrow alone."

"We’re just as glad to be here," Ray said with a smile of his own.

"But what happened to you?" Janine asked, her patience gone although she was smiling.

"Well, Slimer came up here and told me about a little girl outside in the storm. So I went out to see if I could help her. She seemed to be afraid of the car, so I figured I could walk her home - in this weather she couldn’t have gotten far, at least I didn’t think so. We walked for I don’t know how long, and finally ended up in front of this Christmas tree in a park. She said she needed to hang her special ornament on the tree and then she could go home. I helped her and she... left. I stumbled back and slid down a wall. I was so cold. I couldn’t feel anything, and I just knew..." He paused and made eye contact with each of his friends - his _family_ \- that had gathered around him. "Guys, I may not know exactly how long I was out there, but considering my condition, there should have been no way for me to have made it home. I passed out regretting not being able to see you guys again, then the next thing I knew Ray had found me and you guys brought me inside. I just don’t get it."

Egon looked at him thoughtfully as Ray silently hugged the bundled-up man. "That does sound odd, Peter." The blond went over to the desk on that floor and grabbed a PKE meter that had been sitting there.

Before he could turn it on, Peter dashed over and stilled the action. "Wait, Spengs. I’m not sure that’s how I want my answer yet."

Pale blue eyes narrowed, confused. "But, Peter..."

The psychologist grinned and winked. "Give me a second here. I’ve got something else in mind. But I need to go change first." Before any of his shocked friends could stop him, Peter ran up the spiral staircase to the bedroom.

"Okay, is it just me, or has Doctor V completely lost it?" Janine asked, one red eyebrow raised behind her pointed glasses.

"You are assuming, of course, that he ever ‘had it’ to lose," the physicist responded, still gazing after his impetuous friend.

"Well, one way or the other, something weird is going on," Winston said, crossing his arms across his chest.

Ray merely grinned. "Yeah, but I think it’s a good kind of weird. Peter was just a little confused, not worried." The auburn-haired man gave a short laugh. "This is gonna be great!"

"You bet it is, Tex," Peter said, rushing down the stairs changed out of the pajamas the guys had dressed him in earlier. "Now who wants to go for a ride?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The five of them stood in front of the decorated fir tree in Union Square Park, led there by what Peter described as ‘a really strange pull’ as he drove Ecto-1. It was about ten o’clock that night, and the storm had calmed down to a dull roar - still not something you wanted to be outside for, but you could manage if you had to. Peter, of all people, had decided they had to.

"What are you looking for?" Ray asked, watching his brown-haired friend circle the tree for the third time.

"Her ornament, Neva’s ornament. I know it’s here - it _has_ to be!"

"Neva?" a new voice said, completely startled, from behind them. The Ghostbusters and their secretary turned to find a tall lean young man with short, white blond hair standing there staring at them, shocked. "You knew Neva?"

"My friend here says he met her and helped her hang her ornament on this tree," Egon explained politely.

He shook his head. "But that’s impossible. If we’re talking about the same person, Neva died eighteen years ago tonight. She’d gone out in a horrible storm and froze to death just three blocks from home. I was only a baby at the time, but I’ve always felt a weird connection with her all the same. I came to see her favorite tree. She loved to come here and put my grandfather’s memorial ornament up as high as she could."

Peter gave the young man an appraising look. "Your name wouldn’t happen to be Oliver, would it?"

Now the newcomer looked completely shocked. "Yes, it is. But how did you know that?"

Everyone looked to the psychologist for his response. "I’ll tell you in a minute. But first come here and take a look at something. I think you might be pleasantly surprised."

The five people out of the loop did as requested and made their way closer to the tree. The strands of colored lights glinted off all the snow-covered ornaments, but one in particular stood out amongst all the rest just past Peter’s reach. It was a small brass angel, kneeling and holding a tiny bell that tinkled in the brisk wind. And for some reason the light caught it just right, and the engraved name "Neva" could just be made out.

Five breaths caught at the sight. "Peter, how did you know?" Janine asked breathlessly.

"That’s... that’s my sister’s ornament. My parents said they were going to surprise her with her special ornament before she went to bed on Christmas Eve, but she disappeared before they could do it. She had turned five that year." He turned to face the smiling Peter. "How did you know?"

"Let’s just say I helped her finally get home."

Oliver grinned as the implications of that sank in. "Then I have a lot to thank you for. I was always afraid she couldn’t rest, and now you’ve helped her find it." He shifted his gaze to take in the entire group. "You’re the Ghostbusters, aren’t you? Doctor Peter Venkman?"

"That would be us," Peter confirmed. "And me."

The young man stepped forward and shook the psychologist’s hand. "I’ll always be grateful to you, Doctor Venkman. From everything I’ve ever been told, Neva was a special little lady. I only wish I could have known her."

Peter grinned in return. "Don’t worry, Oliver. She loved you very much. She considered you part of home."

Oliver choked back a sob at that. "She talked about me? That’s great. It’s good to know she loved me." He looked back at the tree and his sister’s ornament. "I... I need to go. I need to tell my parents and my sisters. They’ll be glad to know about this. We’ve never been able to find that ornament, and now it’s here. Thank you again, Doctor Venkman. We’ll always be grateful." With that the young man turned and hurried off.

"Wow, Peter, that was just wonderful!" Ray exclaimed.

"It was, wasn’t it?" Peter agreed, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

"I suppose I don’t need to check with the meter to determine what kind of experience you had this evening," Egon said, pulling the device out of his jacket anyway.

"No, no, you don’t," the brown-haired man said, smiling widely.

"Hey, something big happened here," Winston said, looking over the physicist’s shoulder at the meter’s display.

"I agree. I would theorize that Neva translocated Peter back to the firehouse just as she left our plane of existence, to send him home. That would explain why he wasn’t there the first time we checked but was the next."

"But why was I warmer?" Peter asked, his smile falling slightly as his lingering confusion came to the fore.

"Um, guys? Do you think there’s any way we could have this discussion elsewhere? Like at home in the nice warm firehall?" Janine asked a bit snippily, her arms wrapped around herself and she shivered in the sharp bitter wind.

The others just looked at her, surprised. "Oh, yeah," Ray said a bit sheepishly. "I suppose we could do that." They started heading for the car, Peter lingering just a second or two longer to blow a kiss and say a quick thank you in the direction of the tiny ornament.

"You let me go home, too, Neva. Thanks." He took one more look and headed off after the others.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was just before midnight at Ghostbusters Central, and all five occupants were still awake and in the rec room. All the lights had been turned off, and they sat and enjoyed the subdued glow of the large Christmas tree. "Gosh, am I glad we could all be here for this. I was kind of worried we wouldn’t be able to." Ray turned his light brown gaze up to the others from his seat on the floor in front of the sofa, having broken a brief silent lull.

"I hear you there, Tex," Peter agreed quietly, his green eyes glittering with contentment.

"I suspect that the fortuitous timing of the separate interruptions in the storm fronts that kept each of us from getting home was influenced by the spirit Peter encountered earlier," Egon said from his seat on the couch to Peter’s left. "I have a feeling home was very important to her."

"That it was, Spengs. That it was." The psychologist sighed. Suddenly something occurred to him and he quickly rose to his feet. "I... need to check something. I’ll be right back."

The others watched him go, curious, but not particularly concerned. There had been a happy glint in his eyes that they had all seen. "Pete had it right earlier," Winston commented from his position in the older grey recliner next to the couch. "He included people as part of home. And I know this wouldn’t be home without you guys here to share it with me."

"Just like any other place would be home as long as you guys were there," Ray added with a smile.

"Geez, we’re getting sappy," Janine commented from the opposite end of the sofa from Egon. Her tone wasn’t serious, and the three men could see the fondness in her sapphire blues.

"That’s okay, Janine. It’s Christmas. We’re allowed," the occultist on the floor assured her, his smile shifting into a grin.

"It’s not quite Christmas yet," Peter’s familiar tenor said from behind them. He stood there holding the winter hat he had received from Neva and smiling widely. "I think we need a new tradition around here, guys, and Neva gave me just the right one. What do you think?"

"What is it, Pete?" Winston asked.

"How about I tell you as we go?" He reached into the small hat and pulled out a thin cardboard envelope. "Well, Janine, looks like you get to go first. You up for it?"

"What am I doing, Doctor Venkman? Nothing embarrassing, I hope." Her eyes narrowed. "Or should I say, _you_ hope." He silently handed her the envelope, smirking. She shot him one more glare then turned her attention to the paper pocket. "Oh, wow," she breathed as she drew out what was inside. The redhead held up a small brass ornament of a snowflake with ‘Janine’ engraved in the center. "When did you go out and get this?"

"I didn’t," was the unexpected response. "Consider it one last gift from Neva."

Everyone blinked. "So what should I do with it, since you seem to know how this new tradition works?" Janine asked.

"You hang it on the tree and make a Christmas wish. And you can’t go wishing for something petty and selfish; it’s gotta be something bigger and better. It’s supposed to remind you to think about everybody else out there."

"Out loud?"

Peter considered that. "No, I don’t think so," he said thoughtfully. "That’s something that should be personal. So you’re on your honor to come up with the right kind of wish, Janine. Be good now."

She rolled her eyes at him as he remained standing behind the couch. "I think I can manage that, Peter." The slim woman rose to her feet and stepped up to the tree, contemplating where she was going to the glittering snowflake as well as her wish. She smiled as she figured out both. "I wish that Marcia wouldn’t come out of remission for a very long time," she said under her breath as she hung her gift from a sturdy branch in the center, her thoughts on her sister still far away in Maine, but never far from her heart. She figured that kind of wish would fit Doctor V’s qualifications.

Peter drew out the next envelope as she returned to her seat. "Two redheads in a row. Who would have guessed?" He grinned as he handed Ray the small cardboard package.

"This is a great tradition, Peter," the engineer said as he opened the flap and pulled out his ornament. Everyone laughed as they saw what it was - an adorable brass puppy wearing a large bow around its neck, the name Ray engraved on the tag that appeared to hang from the etched ribbon. "He’s so cute!" The man bounded to his feet and stood in front of the tree in thought. He snapped his fingers. "Got it!" He hung the ornament a few branches above and to the right of where Janine’s glittered in the glow of the strings of bulbs. "I wish everyone could have as terrific a Christmas and home as me," he said softly. A simple wish, but well within the parameters Peter had set. No one suspected he could do otherwise.

"And now Winston," Peter declared, looking at the next envelope he pulled out of the hat.

"How did all those fit inside the cap, Peter?" Egon asked as Winston took the offered item. "I admit it seems a bit large for a child’s hat, but it’s still small."

"Hey, if she could fit all that hair under here, five thin envelopes are no problem. Besides, does it really matter? For all we know, Neva could just be putting them in here as I reach inside." Peter’s smile said the first explanation was the right one, and the blond man rolled his eyes and smiled, letting it go. His oldest friend was correct. It didn’t matter, not tonight.

A brass Christmas tree was the ornament Winston pulled from his envelope, his name engraved on the tree skirt at the base. The black man smiled. "This is nice. I like it." He followed the two redheads’ lead and approached the tree, considering his wish. It didn’t take him long to figure that one out. "I wish my nephew Noah and my brother Frank would get along better," he whispered. A few moments later he hung the hook on a limb to the left of Janine’s and slightly lower.

"Well, well, well. It looks like the mighty Spengler gets to go next," Peter said, smirking, as Winston reseated himself on the floor next to Ray. "This should be interesting."

Egon merely raised a pale eyebrow as he opened the envelope. He pulled out a brass star, his name etched in the center. "Simple, but attractive," he commented, his eyes soft.

"And appropriate," Peter said quietly. He refused to elaborate when the others gave him a look, merely smiling knowingly.

The physicist walked up to the tree with no hesitation and knelt to deposit his ornament on a lower branch near the center of the viewable portion of the decoration. "I wish that my mother would have a wonderful time on her cruise and comes home safe," he murmured as he let his gaze linger on his star a moment longer. Then he rose from his knees. "I must agree with Raymond," he said as he returned to the couch. "This is a pleasant tradition."

"I liked it when I heard about it," Peter agreed, pulling out the last envelope and setting the hat aside. "Now we get to see what she picked for me." He opened the flap and slowly drew out the brass ornament. It turned out to be a small angel, kneeling with a tiny bell hanging from his clasped hands. Peter’s name was engraved near the hem of the night shirt the figure was wearing. The psychologist couldn’t help but smile.

"An angel?" Janine asked. "Um, I’m not sure how appropriate that is." She didn’t even try to stop the grin the lifted the corners of her mouth. Winston laughed.

"Oh, I don’t know," Ray said thoughtfully. "He _did_ help that girl find her way home. That was a really good thing to do."

"As long as we keep in mind that this is not a definition of Peter all of the time, I think we can accept the representation." Egon’s lips twitched while a glow of affection lit his eyes.

Peter just stuck his tongue out at them all before going over to the tree. He stood on his tip toes and managed to hang his angel on one of the highest branches. "I wish you all the happiness and warmth of home, Neva," he whispered as he jingled the little bell. "Thank you for adding to mine." He smiled as he let himself rest on the entirety of his feet, thoughts of "It’s a Wonderful Life" going quickly through his head as he rang the bell one more time.

"I think the vote’s in - this new tradition of yours is a success, Pete," Winston said as he and the others joined the brown-haired man next to the tree.

"Ours, Winston. The tradition is ours," Peter corrected, reveling in the warm feelings he and his friends were sharing. The others silently agreed, and the five of them stood together and watched the now-softly falling snow drift past the window next to the tree as midnight came bringing Christmas Day with it, the soft glow of the lights nothing compared to the love and affection that flowed around and through the family gathered there.

The End (and Merry Christmas!)


End file.
